


Black As Nightblood

by Val_Creative



Series: Rainbow Femslash February 2020 [28]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Blood, Canon LGBTQ Female Character, Canon LGBTQ Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2020, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Lesbian Lexa (The 100), Menstrual Sex, Menstruation, Not Canon Compliant, Protective Clarke Griffin, Romance, Season/Series 03, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: It feels like sometimes they’re dancing around each other. Flickering like candlelight. Clarke longs for that warmth, that quickness and silence where the inevitability crests, falls, and returns.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Rainbow Femslash February 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620025
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31
Collections: Femslash February, Femslash Friday





	Black As Nightblood

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever be over Clexa? No. And I never plan to be over them. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ And that's that on that. So it is Day 28 " _Dance_ " for Femslash February official-unofficial [prompts](https://femslashfeb.tumblr.com/post/190473208546/any-world-any-fandom-any-originals-however-you) and I hope this one makes my fellow Clexa fans happy. We deserve some happy for coming episodes. Any thoughts/comments appreciated!

*

It feels like sometimes they're dancing around each other. Flickering like candlelight.

Clarke longs for that warmth, that quickness and silence where the inevitability crests, falls, and returns.

"—we will speak again," Lexa murmurs, placing a hand to the small of Aden's back and guiding him to her door. He doesn't take his eyes off her, moving in step with her, admiring Lexa's stern and regal expression like a child admires his trusted mentor.

Aden finally glances to Clarke, nodding with a wide, close-lipped smile. "Bye, _Klark_ ," he murmurs, soft-voiced as Lexa.

"Bye," Clarke says, smiling and nodding back.

She observes them as Lexa waits patiently for Aden to disappear into the corridor, shutting her tower-door.

It's a cold, lonely night. Starless. Clarke tightens the dark woolen shawl around herself. Colorful silks and rags knotted to Lexa's windows flutter restlessly. She understands that feeling. The other Clans keep arguing about Lexa's decision and about the fate of Skaikru.

Lexa's eyebrows furrow. Her mouth twitches into a grimace. She releases an irritated, but low-sounding, noise.

"You okay?"

"There's no need to worry," Lexa answers. It's more _dismissive_ than reassuring.

Clarke rolls her eyes, unfolding her arms and following after her.

Unlike her temporary quarters at Polis, Lexa has got heaps of furs and sheepskin cloth and feather pillows. Lexa's bed looks _massive_. Cozy enough to sink into and never rise from. "If you have to say _that_ —" Clarke deadpans, saying it like a retort, with her blue eyes going round in mocking "—then it _must_ be true."

Lexa touches over her abdomen, sitting down. "Your sarcasm has been duly noted, Clarke."

"Not gonna order me out?"

"Would it work?"

Clarke laughs out loud, feeling that reassurance she desperately wants the moment Lexa's face relaxes into a faint, thin grin. She joins the other woman, sitting beside her on a mound of bear fur. "Seriously, if you're hurt from training with the Nightbloods…"

"No. I'm not," Lexa says. Quiet as a distant, calming storm. "I believe you are familiar with… _bleeding_ … during a cycle of time…"

_Oh._

_Ooooh._

"… You could just call it _menstruation_ like anyone else." Clarke lessens her teasing when Lexa grimaces again. "How bad is the cramping?"

"It'll pass."

Living out in space complicated those bodily functions for most of her life. Clarke would bleed a little for a day or two, with slight discomfort. Almost no pain. She knows not everyone on the Ark went through an easier process. Here, on Earth, it must be _more_ severe.

Clarke eyes her with interest, reaching with her fingertips to pluck a strand of Lexa's hair. A skinny, dark braid.

"You don't have to… _suffer alone_."

Her hand now wanders over Lexa, to her shoulder, down her arm and dropping to Lexa's thigh, grasping their fingers as soon as Lexa's hand not positioned to her abdomen seeks out Clarke.

Maybe they're rushing a bit, just a bit, but Clarke misses another person's warmth. She kisses a half-reluctant Lexa, tilting her head and nudging their lips, kissing Lexa's mouth over and over, savoring the hint of a quiver. To love is to expose yourself to _weakness_. That's what Lexa tried to instill in her, and Clarke knows Lexa doesn't even believe that. Not like she used to.

_"Clarke…"_

Lexa's voice goes hoarse.

She allows Clarke to touch her, burrowing her fingers under her tattered dress and stroking a thumb to the bridge of Lexa's underwear. Clarke can feel the heavy, damp rag lumping inside, slipping it out. She shushes Lexa murmuring out her name again, fingering her lightly, easing her onto her back and giving her a faintly mischievous look.

Black blood — Lexa's _own_ blood— has a clotted, thicker quality to it. Or it could be what menstrual blood feels like for others. Clarke _tastes_ it, burying herself between Lexa's bare, slim-muscular thighs, tongue dragging over her vaginal entrance.

Clarke remembers what blood tastes like in her own mouth. Coppery and slick. This isn't the same.

(And she will not do this for _anyone else_.)

They crest, fall, and return with Clarke's smirking, rosy mouth and her nose dripping in black.

(Not unless it's Lexa.)

*


End file.
